


we were born from chaos

by volchitza



Category: Stoker (2013)
Genre: F/M, wild speculation as the movie comes out tomorrow yay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-28
Updated: 2013-02-28
Packaged: 2017-12-03 22:38:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/703409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/volchitza/pseuds/volchitza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He takes three large, precise steps - like a pair of scissors thrice cutting the air, cutting the distance between them - and he is in front of her, somewhat imposing notwithstanding his lean figure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we were born from chaos

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Мы рождены из хаоса](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1136872) by [Walter_Kovacs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Walter_Kovacs/pseuds/Walter_Kovacs)



India is standing in her room, looking down at her shoes. A spot of dirt is still noticeable on a once perfect string; she considers if she should clean it away, or deem it a trophy.  
  
Suddenly, something in the atmosphere of the room shifts; her shoulders tense; she looks up sharply into the mirror before her and she sees the reflection of Uncle Charlie, framed by the shape of the door.   
  
She turns on the spot, her light dress swirling around her ankles in the motion; her hands close around the edge of the marble rack behind her and she leans backwards into it, suggestive, her dark eyes fixed on him.  
It's an open invitation; he takes three large, precise steps - like a pair of scissors thrice cutting the air, cutting the distance between them - and he is in front of her, somewhat imposing notwithstanding his lean figure.  
His left hand finds a place on the small of her back; the other caresses away a strand of her hair.  
When his tongue slips into her mouth, hot and wet and rough and exactly what she wanted, she thinks  _oh, this is what Persephone felt. This is Hades' kiss_. Hades, god upon the dead, the mysterious, handsome uncle who snatches Persephone away to make her his wife and crown her queen in the Underworld. India draws him closer to her and wonders if he will do the same; Charlie holds her tighter, intoxicated and careless.  
  
She is happy to know that the door is open: that her mother could see; that people would gasp in horror and murmur the word 'incestous' as an insult. She is wildly happy to be the potential matrix of such chaos, and therefore bites into his lip. If he feels the pain, he doesn't show it - instead he kisses her again, and she tastes his blood - her blood.  _I left a mark on you_ , she has said with the bite,  _I left proof of this. I initiated the pandemonium_.  
A spark is alive in her eyes, of the exact same color as his; she doesn't speak words because she knows how he understands her with a single glance.  
He leaves a smudge of his own blood on her ear when he tells her, just before leaving quietly, that like her Greek gods, from chaos they had been moulded.


End file.
